


Dear Dream

by Drag0n_Fire



Category: Dream SMP - Fandom, Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Depression, Gen, Happy Ending, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Intrusive Thoughts, Mentioned Luke | Punz, Mentioned Phil Watson (Video Blogging RPF), Mentioned Ranboo (Video Blogging RPF), Mentioned Technoblade (Video Blogging RPF), Mentioned Wilbur Soot, Panic Attacks, Past Abuse, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Swearing, season 3 (dream smp), this is written about the fictional characters in the roleplay and not about any real people
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-27
Updated: 2021-01-27
Packaged: 2021-03-12 18:00:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,757
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29014752
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Drag0n_Fire/pseuds/Drag0n_Fire
Summary: Dear Dream,Captain Puffy said that it would be a good idea to write out my feelings. Something about expression and not repression.
Relationships: Cara | CaptainPuffy & TommyInnit, Clay | Dream & TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Eret & TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Sam | Awesamdude & TommyInnit, Toby Smith | Tubbo & TommyInnit
Comments: 28
Kudos: 566





	Dear Dream

**Author's Note:**

> This is just what sprung to my head when pondering how my therapist suggested that I write about my feelings and stuff. Also a good portion of this is written in a letter format and such as if Tommy wrote it, so there will be run-on sentences and other intentional grammatical errors.

_Dream looked up at the sounds of deep groaning and shifting. The curtains of lava moved aside to reveal a familiar silhouette._

_“Dream!” Tommy announced loudly. He marched into the cell with his head lifted high. “This is my last visit. Ever.”_

_Dream pulled himself to his feet. “Wha-what?”_

_“That’s right,” Tommy nodded, mounting his hands on his hips. “So you better enjoy it. Bitch.”_

_“You can’t stop visiting me!” Dream leaned against the wall as he stumbled closer. “Don’t you want to see me?”_

_“I don’t want to see your stupid bitch face! Why would you think that?”_

_His eyes twitched around the cell. His mouth moved to form words. They weren’t the right words, no sound would come out. “I-I need you!” His voice came out broken and weak._

_Tommy bent over his stomach and laughed into his hand. “You need therapy!”_

_Beginning to shake, Dream forced out words over Tommy’s laughter, “Why are you here?”_

_“Well…” Tommy trailed off as he pulled something out of his inventory. “I was going to give you this.” He waved a small, insignificant looking book in Dream’s face. “I wrote you a lot of letters.”_

_Dream reached out to grab it, but Tommy pulled it out of the way just as his fingers were about to graze the cover. “Not so fast, bitch boy! See, I was thinking as I came here. I had a lot of time to think, because this prison is super fucking big. So I was thinking, ‘should I really give these to Dream?’” Tommy opened the book and skimmed through the pages._

Dear Dream,

Captain Puffy said that it would be a good idea to write out my feelings. Something about expression and not repression.

It sounds fucking stupid.

I trust her.

  
  


Dear Dream,

Puffy asked why I addressed my writing to you. I said I didn’t know. I said that a lot of the bad feelings I have are about you and I said that’s what I thought I was supposed to be writing about.

Puffy said I could write about anything I wanted. Even women. She also said that it was very smart and creative of me to use letters as a way to sort out my feelings about you. I obviously knew that because I’m a genius.

It still felt nice when she said that.

I’m probably just stupid.

  
  


Dear Dream,

Mexican Dream is much better than you. He’s not a little bitch like you. I hope this makes you feel terrible. Me gusta Mexican Dream. That was spanish. You don’t know spanish because you’re stupid. I’m smarter than you. Do you want to know what I wrote in spanish? I wrote “I like Mexican Dream”. He’s funny unlike you, you green, unfunny bitch. I hope you cry knowing you’ll never be as cool as Mexican Dream. That must be why you killed him, because you were jealous. You killed him. Mexican Dream is dead.

  
  


Dear Dream,

I saw a creeper hole today. It wasn’t even the same shape. It was big and wobbly and shit and I knew it was a creeper hole, but when I looked down at it I thought it was happening again. I thought it was one of your stupid holes for my stuff and I freaked out. I don’t remember it much but when I stopped freaking out I was super fucking tired and Tubbo was upset. I can’t wait to stuff you inside of a hole. Maybe I’ll even blow you up. Or just laugh at you. That sounds funnier.

You’re already in a prison, though. I can laugh at you there.

  
  


Dear Dream,

I’m moving in with Tubbo in Snowchester today. Puffy said that was a good idea. Tubbo said it was about time. I even asked Sam, just to annoy him obviously, and he said some space would do me good. I don’t know what that fucking means. Maybe he means farther away from you. Farther away from the prison. 

He must be right then, because I don’t want to anywhere near your lying, green ass. 

It makes me nervous to think about anyways, and I don’t know why.

  
  


Dear Dream,

I’m waiting inside of Tubbo’s house. I can’t go outside. He told me to stay inside because there is a creeper hole he has to fill first.

That makes me feel like a little bitch. I’m a big man, a stupid little hole can’t stop me.

It’s stopped me before, though.

It shouldn’t.

  
  


Dear Dream,

I haven’t seen Ghostbur. I don’t know where he is. Nobody does. I’m getting worried about him. He has shit memory and gets lost easily. Water hurts him. That’s not a very good mix. What if Technoblade let him get lost? No… What if Philza made him wander in the snow like you? He never seemed to care much for Ghostbur, because he’s a dumb bitch.

That time me and Tubbo heard Wilbur, he said he didn’t know where Ghostbur is. It might have something with you reviving him. Of course you would do that. Wilbur is an asshole, so of course you would bring him back. 

But I want him back. I miss him and he’s my brother. You owe me my brother back. 

Ghostbur is my brother, too. In a different way. Nobody seems to agree, not Techno or Phil or anyone, but he’s my brother. 

You’re making me lose my brother all over again. But I’m getting another one in return. I don’t want to trade people out. Maybe I want both of them. Even if they’re both shit, I want both of them.

You always make me choose between things.

  
  


Dear Dream,

I’m making my own house in Snowchester. Tubbo won’t let me make it out of all cobblestone. He said it’s “ugly as hell” even though it’s my brand. He offered to help me make a nice little cottage to fit his ~~esthtic ustetick asthethic astheatic~~ aestethic. Neither Tubbo or I know how to spell that word. It’s weird as shit. Spelling is stupid as fuck. We spent ten minutes trying to figure out that word. It doesn’t matter. I’m the only one reading this damn book.

I don’t really want to use logs to build my house. I might sound like a superstitious weirdo but it gives me a bad feeling. Logs are stupid anyway.

I think I’ll let Tubbo help anyway. Even if he uses logs. He’s good at building and I think it makes him happy. It makes me happy being with him, logs be damned.

  
  


Dear Dream,

I’m adding a tower onto my house. Tubbo said it would look stupid like all the rest of my towers and I told him I could use it to look out for assholes. He thought that was smart. I’m always very smart. Tubbo said I could build my tower, but it has to have a bell on it so I can alert everyone here if there’s assholes incoming. Tubbo and I are the only ones here. Well, there’s the other citizens: Jack Manifold, Puffy and those two new dudes, Foolish and the Slime guy. They don’t spend as much time here as Tubbo and I, though.

I hope I don’t have to use the bell. That would suck. Tubbo said he wanted to live peacefully here. I’ll cut any bitches that ruin that.

  
  


Dear Dream,

I’m not making my tower anymore. I don’t like heights. I don’t know what I was thinking. Towers are stupid anyways.

Tubbo’s putting bells all around the borders instead. He said that’s a better idea anyways.

I’m just sitting here like a little bitch.

I’m never making a tower again. They really are ugly.

  
  


Dear Dream,

Tubbo’s making a list of things we don’t like, that aren’t allowed in Snowchester at all. Right now, we’ve got:

-lava

-fireworks

-boxes

-towers

-tnt

-small holes

Puffy said these are called “triggers”. 

I said we should add red vines, because those things from the egg are fucking nasty. Puffy asked if those were a trigger. Tubbo said the only thing they trigger is disgust. We both laughed at that, because that damn egg is stupid as shit.

I don’t want that red piece of shit here.

Puffy seemed a bit worried.

  
  


Dear Dream,

My house is all done now, but I don’t spend much time in it. Which is weird, because it’s all my own. Except that Tubbo helped.

It feels a bit weird to be in my house all alone.

Maybe it’s just because it’s not all made out of cobblestone. I told Tubbo that was my brand. My brand is all messed up now. All for his ~~estetic~~ astetic.

  
  


Dear Dream,

I had a stupid nightmare. It was about you killing Tubbo, because of course it was. ~~There was so much blood Loud screaming Dark~~ I don’t want to write it down here, but it was scary as shit, even if it was kind of stupid.

I went into Tubbo’s house just to check on him, even though it was the middle of the night. He’s just sleeping. I’m spending the rest of the night in his house, just in case.

  
  


Dear Dream,

Jack Manifold asked me why I’m always carrying this book around. I told him it was none of his damn business. But then I told him anyway, because he’s my friend. I just told him that I wrote about women and my shitty feelings. I don’t really want anyone to know I’m writing to you. Then I told him it was Puffy’s idea so I’m not the one being made fun of.

  
  


Dear Dream,

I think I’ve started a habit now, of checking in on Tubbo at night. I just want to make sure he’s okay, it’s not weird. I swear it’s not weird. I just have to make sure. Anything can happen at any time and I won’t know if he’s okay unless he’s right in front of me so really it makes sense and it’s not weird at all. And usually once I’m awake I can’t go to bed again so I might as well stand guard for the rest of the night. It’s not weird.

  
  


Dear Dream,

Tubbo actually woke up last night when I was standing guard for him at night. I scared the shit out of him. He ended up hitting his head when he fell out of bed. I feel really bad. 

Once he calmed down it was kind of funny to think about, though. I was just some dark figure standing over him sleeping like some sort of sleep paralysis demon.

Tubbo said we could just stay in the same house now. So we’re closer.

He’s so clingy.

  
  


Dear Dream,

~~The Warden~~ Sam is all serious and stuff and I don’t like it. I like Sam Nook, though, and I like doing all his dumb annoying tasks. I know they’re the same person but I like pretending even if makes me look like a stupid little kid. I like being a kid. I just want to be a kid. Why can’t I be a kid?

Maybe I’m tired of being a big man.

  
  


Dear Dream,

Maybe Sam can be as cool as Sam Nook. He’s not as much of a serious bitch when he doesn’t have to worry about guarding your stupid ass in your stupid cell in your stupid prison. Of course, Sam Nook will always be superior, but Sam is cool too.

Sometimes hanging around with him feels like being with Philza again, but better. Much better. At least he didn’t kill my brother and blow up my country. ~~It wasn’t his fault.~~

  
  


Dear Dream,

Tubbo and I were making the only thing we know how to (soup), and Tubbo stopped cutting vegetables and just stared at the knife like it was lava and I thought about how he was so ready to die back at the prison and I know this is your fault. You did this to him and I hate you for it. Why him? You had me, you didn’t have to hurt anyone else. I hate you.

Tubbo stared at me as I finished all of the cooking by myself. He didn’t feel like eating much. It was almost like he was dead. You killed him, you bitch. I hate you.

  
  


Dear Dream,

Whenever I think about how much I fucking hate you, I get these thoughts of you getting stabbed in the chest, of you getting fireworks shot into your stomach, of you blowing up, of you getting crushed by withers, of you getting crushed and killedkilledkilled. Those thoughts aren’t me but they are me because they’re in my head so who else would be making those thoughts. I think I must be a bad person. Good people don’t have thoughts like these.

  
  


Dear Dream,

I have so many of these thoughts I’m scared they might come true. Someday I might just grab a sword and run it through someone, just like how I see it happen to you in my head. These thoughts won’t stop. They’re getting worse. I don’t want to hurt anyone. But I must, because why else would I have these thoughts?

  
  


Dear Dream,

Tubbo was chopping down trees today but I didn’t help. I don’t think I should hold an axe. I don’t think I should touch anything sharp. I don’t want the thoughts to make me hurt him. Everything looks like a weapon now. Anything could be used to hurt. Even just my hands. Nowhere is safe, so I’ve been hiding in my room all day. Tubbo’s safe now. I just need to stay away. I can’t hurt anyone if I’m never near anyone.

  
  


Dear Dream,

Puffy said my thoughts are called Intrusive Thoughts.

She said I wasn’t a bad person for having them.

I don’t want to write any more today.

  
  


Dear Dream,

I had a snowball ~~fight~~ war today with Puffy, Sam, and Tubbo. It was very epic. I got snow all in my hair and down my shirt and pants and in my shoes. I’m very cold and very wet. It was worth it. We split into teams. I was on Puffy’s team luckily. She was the leader of our team because she’s a captain. Tubbo was the leader of his and Sam’s team. Probably because he was a president. They both made a whole ass fort and everything. Puffy is very good at throwing snowballs. 

After Puffy and I destroyed their fort we ended up splitting up and having every ~~man~~ person for themself. 

I obviously won and did not totally get beaten by Puffy.

And even though Puffy did not win at all in any way the rest of us ended up teaming up on her anyways.

Puffy did win. I was lying earlier. We got her back by burying her in snow. We didn’t cover her head though. She’s still alive. We’re having hot cocoa right now.

There’s no hot cocoa in prison. I hope you cry about it.

  
  


Dear Dream,

I miss Technoblade right now. Even though he denied it a lot, I thought we were friends. If he hadn’t teamed up with you, maybe he wouldn’t have destroyed L’manberg. He was planning on doing it before he joined you, though. 

He knew you had hurt me in exile. He must have. So why did he join you? I wish he hadn’t done that.

I’m not sure if I’m angry at him. He seemed plenty angry. You didn’t help. You just made it worse. You have a habit of doing that. Making people worse.

  
  


Dear Dream,

Sometimes I miss you. Isn’t that fucked up? You’re an absolute bitch. You were an asshole to me. But sometimes I want you to visit, or eat cake with me, or watch me use your trident.

I’m not supposed to feel this way. I don’t like this. I don’t like thinking about this.

  
  


Dear Dream,

Eret let me wear their crown today. It almost fell off my head. That shit’s heavy. I didn’t think a solid chunk of gold and shit would be heavy but damn. 

Tubbo took a turn wearing it and he looked ridiculous. He almost dropped it. I bet it would hurt if it dropped on someone’s toes.

We asked Eret if we could sit on their throne. They said no to that. We tried anyway but then Puffy grabbed us like we were little kids and we left the castle.

Today was a good day, I think. I feel weird, though. Like I’m not as happy as I should be.

  
  


Dear Dream,

I fought with Tubbo today. It was stupid and I don’t know why I was so angry. I yelled at him really loudly. I told him to “just listen”. I sounded like you. I think I’m becoming you. I’m becoming you. I’m becoming you. I’m becoming you. I’m becoming youI’m becoming youI’mbecomingyouI’mbecomingyouIbecominyouIbeingyouIbeingou

  
  


Dear Dream,

I haven’t been writing for a time. Several days, I lost count. I was just laying in bed all alone. I didn’t want to eat, then I just forgot. Didn’t really want to talk to anybody. According to Puffy I was “isolating” myself and going through a “depressive episode”. I thought I had been getting better. That wouldn’t be very fun for you, though. Would it?

Puffy’s been sitting with me and making sure I drink water. I’ve drank a whole glass. I’m tired now. I feel like I’ve been tired for a while.

  
  


Dear Dream,

I talked to Tubbo today. We both apologized to each other. I don’t know what he was apologizing about. I was the dickhead. Not him. We “hugged it out”. I think we’re okay now.

  
  


Dear Dream,

I visited Sam Nook again. I’ve fallen behind on my tasks. He said it was okay, and that breaks are necessary. I got a lot done. I saw Punz. He did not give me a fist bump. Tubbo did. 

  
  


Dear Dream,

Tubbo came up with a really good idea for a prank. We brought a bunch of snowballs from Snowchester to the SMP and then we visited Eret. Once we were inside their castle we pelted them with snowballs. We managed to corner them. They were so surprised and cold it was hilarious. Tubbo accidentally knocked their glasses off. We thought we were dead. Then Eret started grabbing snow off of the floor and attacking us.

I feared for my life. Then Puffy came and I was sure we were dead. But no, like the guardian angel she is, she had brought snowballs with her as well and helped us defeat King Eret.

They were soaked. Everyone else in the SMP was so confused seeing their king all soggy.

  
  


Dear Dream,

Ranboo showed me that he can pick up a half-eaten cake. The cake reminded me of the beach party, so I didn’t eat any. It was still cool, though. Ranboo’s cool.

Tubbo and Jack Manifold played some chess today. Tubbo offered to teach me how because I don’t know anything about that shit. I didn’t want to play after he explained the pawn. 

I think today was still a good day, though.

  
  


Dear Dream,

Connor told me he was proud of me and how far I’ve come. He seemed very...sincere. And serious. I called him a bitch to lighten the mood. Then I felt bad, so I told him I was just trying to lighten the mood. He thought I said I was trying to “lion the mood”. As if I would ever make a pun. 

  
  


Dear Dream,

Tubbo and I woke up really early, so we listened to the discs and watched the sun come up. We listened to the discs when the sun set as well. We made a new bench in Snowchester. We sat there a while after it went dark just listening. Then it got too cold. 

I think I like the new bench. It could never be the same as the original, but we have the same discs. We have each other, so I think that’s enough.

  
  


Dear Dream,

I don’t think I’m going to write here anymore. I might still write about my feelings, because that shit idea wasn’t so shit after all, but I won’t write them here. I won’t write to you. My feelings don’t revolve around you, they never have. I don’t need to do this anymore. I’ll write to myself.

_Tommy closed the book with a snap. “I was thinking, and then I came to my answer.” He looked up at Dream with bright, bright blue eyes. “I’m not going to give this to you. I’m not going to let you read this.”_

_Dream’s head tilted._

_“Do you know why?”_

_Dream humored him. “Why?”_

_“You don’t deserve my thoughts. You don’t deserve my feelings. You don’t deserve my words. You don’t deserve anything from me and I don’t owe you anything.” Tommy started walking away from Dream. “I’m not going to let you take up another second of my life.”_

_“Tommy…”_

_“See, at first I thought ‘I’m going to show him how much better I’m doing! How much I’ve grown without him! That’ll teach him!’ But,” Tommy shifted from foot to foot, “I don’t need that. So, that’s what I came here to do. Tell you that.”_

_“You don’t mean that, Tommy.”_

_“Don’t lie to yourself, Dream.” Tommy grinned toothily. “Denial won’t get you far. I suggest you speed run through your little stages of grief and get straight to acceptance.” He accompanied this statement with overexaggerated hand gestures._

_“I-”_

_Tommy ignored him. “I don’t need this anymore.” He casually tossed his book like a frisbee into the lava surrounding the cell. Dream’s hand twitched in it’s direction. In a blink, it was as if the letters never existed._

_“Sam!” Tommy yelled. “I’m ready to go back now!”_

_Dream’s eyes widened. He pushed himself off the wall towards Tommy. “No!”_

_Tommy stepped back. “Sam! Can you hurry that shit up?”_

_“You’re not leaving,” Dream hissed as his bony fingers curled around Tommy’s wrist._

_Tommy pushed him away hard with a grunt. Dream hit the obsidian floor hard. The pain reverberated in his thin body. He pushed himself up and crawled desperately to Tommy, but the Netherite barrier shot up, blocking his path. He pulled himself up just in time to see the lava close behind Tommy._

_It was hours before Dream moved again. He carefully pulled an empty book out of his chest._

Dear Tommy,


End file.
